


Smitten With Jealousy

by emotionalbean, Leafintel



Category: Badboyhalo, Skeppy
Genre: Angst, Blood, Established Relationship, Gen, Hanging, Panic Attacks, Self-Harm, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-14 01:10:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20592179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emotionalbean/pseuds/emotionalbean, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leafintel/pseuds/Leafintel
Summary: Darryl finds his own creative ways of dealing with being the third-wheel.





	1. Selfish

**Author's Note:**

> ** Ok, _please_ heed the tags on this and enjoy! **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **If you thought that ‘Accidental Ghosting’ was too far you have another thing coming- OwO**
> 
> **ALSO, none of this would EVER happen, do not harass anyone mentioned in this fanfic with shipping or angst or whatever. This was written all in good fun - messed up fun but still fun.**
> 
> **With that being said, enjoy the fanfic.**

Darryl walked behind the pair, clutching his right arm with his hand as he watched the two smiling brightly as they walked hand-in-hand. He buried the growing feeling of jealousy bubbling up inside of him as the passionate pair talked to each other.

**Without him…**

He felt the beginnings of tears brimming at the corner of his eyes, blinking them away indignantly as he sucked in a gulp of air. This was supposed to be a fun day with two of his friends - but really he was just being dragged along. God, he should’ve never bothered to ask them to hang out with them. He should’ve just stayed in his bedroom and shrivelled up into a b-:D

“Hey Darryl, where were you planning on taking us?” Vincent suddenly asked quizzically, giving Darryl a reassuring smile. His mouth felt dry as he looked up at the taller male in mild confusion before answering his question.  
“I-I don’t know - I guess it just slipped my mind,” he answered cheerfully, Giving them a tight-lipped smile. 

How stupid could you be, forgetting where you’re going just because you’re too bothered about a relationship. How selfish of you.

His stomach churned as the words were spoken, feeling physically sick with himself as he watched Clay and Vincent discussing where they were going-

** Without him without him withouthim withouthimwithouthimwithOUTHIMWITHOUTHIM-**

Shaking his head vehemently in a desperate attempt to get his head to shut up, he opened his eyes to see the two staring at him.

“No to the cinema? Alright then…” Clay muttered as he watched Darryl shake his head, completely oblivious to what was actually going on.

“You know, I-I just realized I have something that’s _reeeaaaaaaally_ urgent, so I need to go back to my apartment, you wouldn’t mind if I just…” He pointed his thumb behind him as he spoke, waiting for Clay and Vincent’s permission to leave.

“Oh alright, bye - Good luck with whatever you have to do!” Clay replied, giving him a toothy grin and waving the black-clad male off as Vincent waved in a similar manner. Darryl gave them a strained smile as he walked away, discreetly increasing his speed when the other two had their backs turned.

As soon as he rounded the corner of the street, he allowed his worn smile to drop - the overwhelming feeling of heartache slapped him hard in the face as he felt his legs turn to jelly and his stomach drop. Without a second thought, he rubbed his eyes with the palm of his hand and willed himself to stagger his way back to his apartment.

Upon arrival at his apartment building, he made a mad dash to his bathroom - his Lunch making a second debut. He stood up on shaking legs and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes catching sight of his reflection through his blurring vision. Sucking in a breath, he stared intensely at himself - dishevelled hair and glassy eyes stared back.

Shaking his head, he sat in his porcelain bathtub - shutting his eyes as he felt the tears begin to pour down his sickly pale cheeks. Pulling out his phone in an attempt to distract himself from his emotions, he opened Instagram.

Opening Instagram, his eyes fell on the first thing displayed proudly on his Feed - Clay and Vincent at a theme park.

Eyes widening, he stared intensely at the phone, loneliness blooming within him as he looked through the generous set of images Vincent had supplied his Instagram followers.

Darryl wanted to be mad. He wanted to yell and scream at the two - tell them that it was their fault he was like this, but he couldn’t. Really, it was his fault - He should have confessed to the two of them earlier. Maybe then he could snuggle up with the two of them while they all watched a movie, or they could all take a walk hand-in-hand through a park at night or...or-

...

He let the full-blown sobs rack his body, hugging his knees to his chest as the wet tears fell against the porcelain of the bathtub. Shuddering breaths escaped his mouth as he wiped his eyes desperately with the sleeve of his hoodie.

“Why am I so selfish, why can’t they like me back, why do I third-wheel everything, why am I just the annoying extra, why can I never be good enough for anyone why, why me- I just want someone to hug and snuggle, and kiss and-and…” The words died on his throat as broken, heart-wrenching sobs ripped through his throat- his line of thought slowly deteriorating as he rocked against the white, porcelain bathtub in an attempt to ease the unbearable pain.

His eyes fell on the bottom cabinet tucked in the corner of the cramped room - his mind clouded with hopelessness, he felt himself standing up and taking a step toward it, against his better judgement. Kneeling down, he pulled out the drawer, staring at the pristine razor blades looking alluringly back at him.

His heart screamed loudly in his chest as he reached out a shaking hand to grab one - feeling the sharp edge with his finger, feeling a spike of pain as he watched the blood drip down his finger. Placing the razor against his forearm, he moved it - the newly made cut began to seep with blood. Darryl stared at it through the tears in his eyes, he deserved this.

He deserves this for being so self-centred, why can’t you just let them have a happy ending?

“I-I don’t know,” he mumbled as a shuddering breath escaped his throat, the blood beginning to crawl down his arm. He felt the sharp edge of the razor blade on his skin again, and again and again and _again-_

Staring at the word carved into his arm, his eyes began to fill with salty tears as he stood in the middle of his bathroom - blood seeping out of the cuts and dripping onto the tiled floor and the strong smell of metal filling his senses. 

**SELFISH**

**selfishselfiselfishselfiSHSELFISHSELSFISH-**

Sucking is a breath of air, he averted his attention to the roll of toilet paper hidden away on the overhead shelf. Reaching up, he took the roll of tissues in his trembling hands - ripping off a large section of it and kneeling down on the ground; wiping away the blood pooled on the floor. 

Darryl stared at the blood-stained tissue gripped tightly in his hand, using the back of his free hand to wipe away the stray tears running down his face; his eyes still swimming. The razor blade left abandoned on the rim of the sink as he left the bathroom to dispose of the blood-soaked towelette, his sleeve rolled down with the large carved word sunken into his skin still visible.

Throwing the bloodied tissue paper in the trash can, he mindlessly wandered into the kitchen - his hand reaching up to the First Aid Kit seated in the top cabinet; straining his arm as he attempted to take it. The pain from the cuts began to sting as the previous adrenaline from the session wore off - Darryl whimpered in discomfort as he felt the sharp sensation throb from his forearm.

After a few seconds of painful struggling, he finally found himself clutching the First Aid Kit tightly in his hand. Ignoring the searing pain in his arm, he fervently opened the small green box and snatched the roll of bandage gauze tucked snugly inside. With one hand, he carefully wrapped the material around his scarred arm; wincing every time the gauze touched a cut.

He stared at his handiwork, the carved word covered up tightly in white bandage gauze. Sighing in exhaustion, he sat down against the cold tiles of the kitchen floor, lethargy taking over his system as his consciousness began to slip.

Upon waking up, Darryl felt the sensation of an ache throbbing throughout his entire body - the morning rays shone through the kitchen window, shining onto him as he blearily took notice of his absurd surroundings.

“Where- How..?” He murmured to himself, looking at his rolled down sleeve covered with a wrap of bandage - jogging his memory, he tore his contemplative gaze away from his arm; ignoring the unbearable nausea he felt as he distanced himself from it. His eyes landed on the clock, the hour hand pointed at the 9, Darryl squinted his eyes in disbelief.

“D-Did I seriously sleep for 19 hours?” He whispered, placing his hand on the counter as support as he stood up on tired legs - swaying gently where he stood. Walking into the bathroom, he found himself face-to-face with his reflection yet again, with the newly joined addition of a bandage wrapped around his entire forearm.

Darryl pulled down his sleeve, hiding the gauze wrapping. He felt shame gnaw at him every time he caught sight of his arm - still ever perplexed as to why he did it.

**Because you deserve it**

“I-I deserve it” He mumbled, looking at the exhausted, dim green eyes that reflected off the mirror. Turning away, he walked out of the bathroom - Not baring the sight of his own sickening reflection. Wandering into his office and sitting on the gaming chair, he switched on his phone, staring at the notifications displayed on the lock screen of his phone before unlocking the device. A genuine smile gracing his face as he looked at the multiple BadBoyHalo appreciation posts littered throughout his Twitter feed.

Pushing himself up against the desk, he rested his chin on his hand - leisurely scrolling through his Twitter, on his desktop; occasionally liking or retweeting a piece of fanart that managed to catch his eye through his thousands of mentions.

His eye caught sight of Clay’s recent tweets, pictures proudly showing off his and Vincent’s great time at the theme park, a heavy aching feeling in his heart began to sting. 

**They had so much fun.**

**Things are so much better without you around. They’d be even better with you gone.**

“N-No, you’re wrong! They care about me...” 

**Prove it.**

“I- I-”

**You can’t.**

“...You’re right.”

**They think that they can just ditch you, like a piece of trash? They don’t care if you disappear.**

_“So I’ll make them disappear.”_

Vincent gasped and shot up from the confines of his duvet. He stumbled off of his bed and stumbled over his own feet before grabbing his phone and keys.  
“C-clay!” He half-shouted, half-panted into the hallway, panic embedded within his voice as he frantically called out for his significant other.  
He slammed his door shut and stumbled over to Clay’s room. Kicking open the door, he tripped over the mess that was the poor excuse of Clay’s floor. Clay, who had heard the commotion, was just now waking up from his fitful sleep and rolling off the back of his bed upon Vincent’s dramatic and sudden entrance into his bedroom.

Clay moaned and sluggishly perched up. Using the wall that he had smacked into to help him stand, though he swayed slightly from being abruptly awoken and startled by the grey-clad male. 

“What’s the big rush?”

“IHADADREAMTHATDARRYLWASBEATINGHIMSELFUPANDTHENHEDECIDEDTHATHEWOULDKILLUS!” Vincent rambled, moving his hands animatedly as he spoke with a desperate glint in his eye.

“Okay… Say that again… But, y’know, slower,” Clay deadpanned, coaxing the other gently.

“I. Had. A. Dream. That. Darryl. Was. Beating. Himself. Up. And. Then. He. Decided. That. HE. WOULD. KILL. US!” Vincent yelled, waving his hands frantically in front of the other.

“...Me too,” Clay murmured under his breath, a perplexed expression gracing his face as he stared at Vincent in contempt, “Weird…we had the same dream…”

...

“I don’t have a good feeling about this,” Clay suddenly spoke after a brief few seconds of tense silence. Vincent looked down at the other, a knowing look in his eye as he stared at the other male.  
“We should check up on him, I feel bad that he couldn’t join us at the theme park yesterday,” Vincent muttered, turning away from Clay to face the kicked down door - intertwining his fingers within his first.

The two walked out the kicked-down door of Clay’s room before reaching the front door; hand in hand. Making their way through the calm, morning streets - they found themselves face to face with the front of Darryl’s house. Vincent squeezed Clay’s hand before both of them took a deep breath - approaching the front door of the home with bated breath. 

Clay knocked on the door, waiting with nervous apprehension for an answer from the recipient of the property.

After the most possible intense seconds of waiting, the sound of a key being shakily shoved into a lock was heard from the other side of the door - the already tight grip on each other’s hands tightened significantly as they heard the sound of the frantic unlocking of a door.

Darryl stood in front of them, a look of surprise on his face as he opened the door to the sight of Clay and Vincent standing on his doorstep.

“Oh, what brings you two here?” He asked, a look of genuine confusion on his face as the two taller males looked down at him. Vincent bit his lip as Clay scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, trying to formulate the words in his head so he didn’t come across as insane.

“Oh well, we just wanted to check up on you - are you doing alright?” Clay asked, giving Darryl a look of concern. Darryl sputtered in surprise before giving the two an incredulous look.

“Of course I’m alright, why wouldn’t I be?” Darryl asked innocently, tucking both of his arms behind his back and forcing a reassuring smile onto his face as he regarded Clay’s question.

Vincent and Clay shared a discreet glance before giving each other a nod of approval - ignoring the confused expression Darryl gave them as he watched the two silently talk to each other through head nods.

“Ok... So you’re okay?” Vincent asked, tilting his head to the side as he spoke.

“Yep!” Darryl remarked cheerfully, giving the pair a convincing grin as he fiddled with his hands behind his back.  
“Okay so, we’ll be off now - Cya later Darryl, have a good day,” Clay said, giving the shorter a small wave, Darryl politely returning the wave before shutting the door. 

The two stared at the door, a little stunned at the abrupt slam of the door in their face. Shrugging it off, they left the property - hand-in-hand. 

Darryl watched as the couple left, content with their “discovery” that their friend was okay. He stood strong as he closed the door. He wandered around the house, opening a window to try to get some fresh air. Darryl walked out of the room and just stood there. He collapsed to the ground. Tears ran down his face as he squeezed his eyes shut and grasped his chest with shaking hands. 

He tried to breathe properly but he just couldn’t. Curling up into a ball, he pushed himself against a wall. 

He just wanted to disappear 

No one would care. 

His sobs turned into wails, slowly losing his tight grip on his bottled up emotions as he continued to feel the tears rolling down his face.

**He felt betrayed.**  
**Not good enough.**  
**Selfish.**  
**Pathetic.**  
**Worthless.**

His own friends thought so, and it was clear. He stared blankly off into the distance, still crying. His dogs came up to him and he grabbed both of them and pulled them into a final bone-crushing hug. If you were to walk into that house right then and there, you would see a broken young man, holding on to his dogs, his last hopes. 

He abruptly stood up, gently nudging his dogs off of him.

He swayed slightly where he stood, but this didn’t stop him. He rushed over to grab a pen and paper; bolting to his desk to scribble down the first words he could think to write.

_dear zak, vincent, and clay, or whoever sees this first._  
_please take care of the rats for me. don’t separate them, please. I won’t tell you why this is happening. you don’t need to know._  
_thank you for being friends with me._

“Though, I wish that I could’ve been more than friends with two of you, and spent more time with the other,” Darryl said out loud.

He quickly shook his head in disapproval.

“That would be stupid to write.”

He went into a storage closet and pulled out a rope. Holding it tightly, he walked out and made his way back to his room - tension filled the room as he entered; closing the door to his room behind him. His dogs, in the other room, had enough food and water to last them about a month without their owner.

He had come to a decision. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N - Andddd that’s a wrap, it’s finally done - now you’ve just gotta wait for the next chapter **
> 
> **E/N (Editor’s Note) -**  
**I HOPE Y’ALL READY TO SUFFER MORE *finger guns***


	2. Tied

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get interesting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Oh goodness so much shit happens**

Zak brushed back the hair out of his face, his eyebrows furrowed as he bolted down the street with a spring in his step. His mind painting a creative image of the current condition of Darryl - worry began to gnaw away at his rational thinking as he made his way to the other’s house. 

_The familiar sound of a ‘ping’ reverberated across the room - catching the dark-haired male’s attention as he slid smoothly across his room toward his bed on his spinny chair, picking his phone off the fluffy covers of his bed and looking at the notification displayed on the lock screen of his phone, raising a skeptical eyebrow at the message he had received from Clay at 8:20 PM (20:20). _

_ **Clay: We came back from the theme park, you should come with us next time, I think you'd like it!** _

_Unlocking his phone, he responded to the other’s message._

_ **Zak: Ok, is Darryl gonna come with us next time, I think he's like to go.** _

_ **Vincent: He left early, said it was something super urgent.** _

_ **Clay: Yeah it kinda sucked** _

_ **Zak: Oh** _

_ **Vincent: Maybe he'll stay next time** _

_Zak stared at the message conversation in mild fear, his mind flitting back to every instance of Darryl’s discreet attitude change every time Clay and Vincent got a little too caught up in their romantic gestures - Zak managed to catch it though._

_He swallowed nervously, already feeling as if something was definitely wrong._

Darryl didn’t want to _feel_ anymore. 

He had used the only chair in the room he was in to push it against the door to reinforce the lock. He began to tie a hangman’s knot before coming to the realization that he needed a step ladder. He finished the knot and then gently dropped the rope onto the carpet beneath him. He wandered towards the closet and threw open the doors.

_Nothing._

At least, nothing that he could efficiently use to finish off himself. He turned around, his eyes scanning the room frantically. He needed something, anything. Well, not anything really, as he needed to be able to stand on it, hang a rope on the ceiling while still standing on it, tie the rope around his neck, and…

Was… he… _procrastinating_…?

Darryl pushed himself against the wall and slid down, hugging his knees tightly as his head banged against the cold, rough surface of the wall. He crumpled to the floor, lifeless. The hopelessness and sadness had really begun to set in. Tears pricked in the corners of his eyes as he stared up at the place where he had planned to off himself.

**You’re pathetic. You can’t even kill yourself right.**

“...”

Darryl frowned. He shot up and strode toward the door. He removed the chair which he had used to reinforce the lock of said door.

**You’re pathetic. You can’t even stop or deal with thoughts that are “too much for you,” you special little snowflake. People suffer more than you, and yet you are still the biggest failure to ever exist. There’s no reason to even lock the door, but you’d like the selfish sense of security, won’t you? **

** No one will even come looking for you. **

Darryl placed the chair on the ground, and in a final attempt to get the last laugh, he sprinted toward the door and unlocked it. He grabbed a special item from the closet that had been left open. He couldn’t deal with the thoughts anymore so he tried to do this as quickly as possible, securing the tied rope to the ceiling, standing on the chair…

He glanced at the gleaming item he held securely in the palm of his hand. It was small, but it was effective. Darryl’s favorite thing about the item was not how it was beautifully designed, no, that was his second favorite thing. He had originally gotten the knife because of his second favorite thing about it, but he had found that he liked something about it much more now.

_It was perfectly sharp. _

Just running your finger lightly across the blade could give you a wound deeper than a paper cut. You can probably imagine now how easy it is to tear through the skin.

It was a small knife, but it had a beautiful aquamarine and blue handle with seafoam and neon green accents. The blade was a dark grey metal that blended into a light grey at the tip. Darryl had bought this specific knife because it reminded him of his favorite people.

He glanced at the knife. His heart clenched.

Darryl didn’t even have to think about it that much. He grabbed the knife and slit his the back of his wrists.

The pain was too addicting, he could barely stop.

He bit his lip as silent tears rolled down his face. The wind from the open window beside him blew a slight wind inside the room that ruffled his hair. It may have been a slight wind, but it was chilly. Darryl shivered violently. His knife slipped from his hands. It clambered to the ground, hitting the chair the broken young adult was standing. His legs were shaking.

Darryl looked sadly down at the knife. This was the last time he would ever see it. It was such a shame, as the knife was truly beautiful.

Darryl sighed, looking at the rope, emotionless.

He pushed himself toward the rope.

**Now or never.**

“_Goodbye_,” he whispered, the wind taking up the message. It was for his friends, his dogs, and himself.

Zak’s heart pounded in his chest as he sprinted towards Darryl's house, exhaustion already catching up to him as he found himself panting lightly as he made his way onward. He squinted his eyes, catching sight of two silhouettes heading in the opposite direction in the distance. They looked suspiciously familiar to him.

Regaining his breath, he rushed forward towards the two as fast as his legs could manage. A spark of relief lit inside him as he came closer to see the faces of Vincent and Clay. The two of them stared in bewilderment at the blue-hooded figure that was currently bolting its way towards them. Squeezing their eyes shut, Vincent and Clay waited in anxious anticipation for some sort of impact - only after a few seconds to open their eyes, being greeted with the sight of Zak in front of them, heavily panting with sweat running down his face.

“Zak? What are you doing here?” Vincent asked, scanning the shorter male in front of him in puzzled confusion.  
“T-That’s not… phew… important right now, h-have you guys… um, seen... Darryl?” He panted, staring up at the two males with a frantic look in his eyes. The underlying ‘something’s wrong’ didn’t go ignored by the two.

“I mean... yeah we did. We just talked to him, actually. Is something- uh- wrong?” Clay asked, a hint of concern dripping into his voice as he spoke.

“I-I mean, like, maybe? I just feel like something is really, _super_ wrong,” Zak huffed out, already pushing his way passed the two, before turning around.  
“You two gonna join me?” He asked, ignoring the fatigue that still relentlessly begged his body to stop running.

Clay and Vincent looked at each other, the worried glint both shared within their eyes, giving each other an affirming nod before simultaneously sending a nod in confirmation to the shorter male, who resumed the time-consuming journey to Darryl’s house with the other two in tow. 

Their eyes lit up with recognition as they found themselves able to garner a view of Darryl’s house - the three of them sighing in relief as they gradually made their way over in their state of lethargy after they had bolted through the streets in worry, disregarding any and all looks of confusion or disbelief from people passing by.  
Vincent was the least out of breath as they stopped in front of Darryl’s house. Clay was just panting heavily, his breath hitching every so often. Zak was in terrible condition. His laboured, shallow breathing rang throughout the surrounding area, gasping for air every second - wheezing and coughing after every exhale.

Clay was the first to see Darryl, who seemed to be walking toward the door to the room.

“He… He’s fine. He’s just walking towards his closet,” Clay muttered before letting out a sigh of relief.

“Well, that was… a workout, to say the least,” Vincent shrugged.

“I- are- you… _phew_… sure that he-” The sound of Zak’s rasping coughs cut off his own statement.

“Darryl’s _fine_. To be honest, I’m a bit more worried about _you_,” Clay admitted, looking at the shorter.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine. We checked up on him actually - we were heading back to Clay’s,” Vincent said reassuringly. 

“Yeah, c’mon dude, let’s go chill. You need to rest, you’re breathing way too hard,” Clay said, smiling at Zak with a comforting grin.

Clay wrapped his arm around Zak to lightly pat him comfortingly on the back before walking on ahead, his french partner not far behind. 

Zak sighed and started to follow them.

Though the shorter was following the lovers, there was a wide gap between them. Zak was tired and he was still trying to regain his breath. Zak stopped and turned around to get one more glance at his friend’s house.

His eyes widened and he gasped. Adrenaline rushed through him. His brain only had to process what he was seeing for a split second before he went sprinting toward Darryl’s house.

Vincent had heard a gasp and turned around searching for the source of said gasp - eyes falling on Zak, who had just started running toward Darryl’s house. When he started chasing after the other, he looked at his friend’s house and had realized why. Clay had seen his partner runoff and followed him without a second thought.

Zak needed to run like hell, no matter how much his lungs ached and begged for him to stop. He kept going. Turning his head only for a split second to see if the others were following, and to his surprise, they were.

Zak pushed forward with all his might as he vaulted through the air for the open window, just barely grabbing on to the edge of the windowsill. When he checked behind to see his other two friends, Vincent and Clay were at the door, trying to get it open. Zak looked up at what was hopefully an empty room, or maybe even Darryl looking at him incredulously, but instead found something that terrified him.

_Traumatized_ him.

**Darryl.**

**Tear tracks on his face.**

**Bleeding from the wrists.**

**Hanging from the ceiling.**

** ...Dying. **

Biting down on his growing fear, Zak felt himself lurch back in shock - his grip on the window ledge as tight as ever as exhaustion started to kick in. He used his hands to pull himself up, boosting himself upwards to get a front view of the horrifying scene playing through the other side of the glass window. The overwhelming urge to look away and throw up over the side of the building was hard to ignore, but he had to get inside the house. 

Zak had barely managed to pull himself inside when he collapsed on the ground. He was about to jump up when he saw a knife on the ground next to him. Without thinking, he grabbed the knife and the chair that lay beneath the hanging young adult. 

Placing the chair down, Zak cut down his friend just as the other two burst through the door, breaking the hinges. Darryl collapsed into Zak’s arms, his body boneless and his eyes closed.

Zak reached for Darryl’s wrists to feel for a pulse. He felt the blood on the tips of his fingers, dripping down onto the floor below him in a slow rhythm as the metallic stench of the red liquid began to fill the room. 

His hands were now drenched in blood.

**Darryl’s blood. **

He stumbled to the corner, staring at his hands in horror. Hot tears ran down his face as he curled in on himself. 

“No-” Zak cried, ”no no no no nonononononononon, t-this _can’t_ be happening I-”

Clay and Vincent were frozen. They stared at the scene in front of them in shock, unsure of what to focus on. After a few tense seconds of silence, Vincent finally found himself able to move, the rush of adrenaline through his veins screamed at him to _‘do something, anything!’_ He turned to look at his significant other, stood in a stunned daze. Shaking him roughly by the side of his arms, Vincent watched the other regain control of his limbs - violently gagging, the horror by the scene still evident on his face.

Shaking his head, Clay looked up at his partner with a determined glint in his eye.  
“You go sort out Zak, I’ll deal with Darryl,” he commanded under his breath. Vincent nodded in compliance with the command, taking a cautious glance toward the shorter male.

Swallowing down a gulp, Vincent willed his legs to make a move, cautiously approaching the boy huddled in the corner of the room - still muttering the same repetitive mantra to himself as he continued to stare at his blood-stained hands in shock. 

Vincent watched in some sort of stunned silence, afraid that even the slightest movement could send Zak over the edge. Finally gathering enough courage to make a move, Vincent knelt down on the floor in front of the other - Eye level.

“Hey, hey Zak?” The call of his name was answered with the blue-cladded male staring at the bandana-wearing male through tears, his vision beginning to fog up with the tears that threatened to run down his face.

“It’s alright, okay?- Darryl will be fine,” Vincent whispered as convincingly as he could manage - not quite believing his own statement. Reaching his hand out to rub circles around the other’s back; hoping that would aid to calm down Zak’s panicked state. The slowing of Zak’s laboured breathing caused Vincent to quietly sigh in relief to himself as he continued to try to calm the other down.

Zak’s shaking began to cease, his once frantic breath began to slow as his eyes looked through Vincent; a glassy coating of tears still remained over his eyes as he stared blankly at nothing. 

“Are you alright now Zak?” He asked, standing up - the pain of kneeling down for so long already beginning to take effect on the other as he stretched his arms over his head. Zak replied with a dull, dazed nod - rubbing his head as he felt his exhaustion win over his panic. He gave Vincent a sincere smile.

“Thank you.” 

Staggering up to his feet, Zak sucked in a deep breath before staring at the limp form of Darryl on the ground, accompanied by Clay checking for a pulse, blood coating Clay’s fingers as he made contact with the frail male’s wrist. Vincent and Zak stared at Clay with bated breath, waiting for a response from the green-cladded male.

After a few seconds, he turned to nod at the pair with a strained smile on his face - Vincent and Zak both feeling their legs buckle in sheer relief. 

“Ok, ok - we need medical supplies,” Zak muttered under his breath, making his way into the kitchen, ignoring the compulsion to wash his hands to rid of the blood, his eyes glazed over a First Aid Medical Kit left open haphazardly on the counter.

‘That’s strange…’ Zak thought to himself, brushing it off and swiping the small box from the countertop, closing it carelessly before sprinting back towards the room whilst clutching the green box within his hands tightly. 

Upon arrival, he was met with the sight of Vincent and Clay kneeling down next to the form of Darryl - their heads turning to face Zak as he let out a cough to alert them of his presence. He rushed over to the pair, First Aid box in hand as he knelt down and stared at the unconscious form of his _best friend._

Swallowing down a gulp, he pulled out the roll of bandage gauze from the box, carefully wrapping it around Darryl’s cut wrists - cringing every time he made contact with the warm, red liquid leaking from Darryl’s open wounds. Clay watched the procedure vigilantly, the sight of a bandage under the black-cladded male’s hoodie sleeve caught his eye.

“Hey Vincent,” he whispered, turning to face the other, who looked at him with a questioning raise of an eyebrow upon the call of his name.  
“How long has that bandage been there?” Clay asked curiously - a hint of worry in his voice as he asked the question. Zak turned away from wrapping up Darryl’s wrist to listen in on their conversation in worried curiosity - his own intrigue imploring him to investigate. Without a second thought, Zak pulled up the left sleeve of Darryl’s hoodie - mouth going dry as he stared at the wrapped-up forearm of the unconscious body on the floor.

...

“Where did that come from?” Vincent inquired, breaking the silence as he tore his gaze off of the bandage to look at the older two, equally as confused him.

“...You don’t think-” Clay started before he abruptly ending his statement.

‘There’s _no way_...Is there?’ 

“W-what are you thinking?” Vincent asked urgently, making contact with Clay’s contemplative gaze. 

“...I think he did that to himself,” Clay whispered under his breath as he watched the bandage intently, not quite believing what he was saying. The French male looked back at the bandaged forearm, face stricken with dread.

Zak gazed at the aforementioned bandage - a guilty sense of curiosity crossed his mind as he felt his hands subconsciously reach over to remove the wrapping. Clay and Vincent watched in cautious apprehension, already dreading what they would witness. Removing the now blood-stained dressing, the three found themselves staring at a 7-word letter carved painfully into Darryl’s skin.

** ‘SELFISH’ **

Zak dropped the gauze dressing in shock, turning his face away as to not stare at the fresh cut for any longer. Vincent stared at the word, overwhelming guilt washing over him as he realised-

_‘He did this before we came over to check on him.’_

Clay immediately ripped a piece of bandage gauze from the roll, wrapping it tightly around Darryl’s forearm as the other two blanched at the sight of the self-inflicted injury, ignoring the paling of his own skin as he laid his eyes on the cuts proudly displaying the word. He let out an exhale of relief as he finished the job - hoping he had done a good enough job to not lead to any infections.

The three males gazed down at their friend in shaken exhaustion, bandages and gauze wrapped around every possible limb that Darryl had on him - the metallic smell of blood still ever-present. Clay rubbed the back of his neck, staring at the unconscious body splayed on the floor below them sleeping peacefully.

“Oh God, A-Are you two okay? That - that was so… _disturbing_,” Vincent mumbled, a shiver ran through his spine as he spoke out the last word, the image of Darryl’s hanging body entered his head, causing him to suppress a groan of discomfort. Zak and Clay nodded, before sitting down on the floor and letting out a breath of exasperation. Brushing away the hair in front of Darryl’s face, Zak stared at Darryl’s face in silent contempt.

_“Why did he do it?”_

_“Why did he carve **‘SELFISH’** into his skin, why did he attempt to kill himself? Why did none of us notice?”_

_ ‘Why didn’t he tell any of us?’ _

Vincent and Clay looked at Zak as the words escaped his mouth, the question left unanswered. Nobody had an answer. _Nobody knew why._  
“No, no. H-He wouldn’t do something like this, he must have left something…” Suddenly standing up, Zak walked towards the desk located in the corner of the room - scanning the contents of the desk, his eyes caught sight of a small sheet of lined paper accompanied with a pen. 

_‘dear zak, vincent, and clay, or whoever sees this first. _  
please take care of the rats for me. don’t separate them, please. I won’t tell you why this is happening. you don’t need to know.  
thank you for being friends with me.’ 

His breath caught in his throat as he read the note in his head - Fighting back tears, he turned around to see Clay and Vincent staring at him expectantly - perturbed expressions on their faces as Zak turned to look at them with the small note held tightly in his hand, his eyes focused toward the ground as he approached the two, still sat next to Darryl.

“I-I found his... suicide note,” Zak mumbled in a low voice, their eyes widening as Zak spoke. He handed the note to the stunned pair, watching in mild curiosity as the two read it silently to themselves - tears brimming at the corners of their eyes as the reached the end of the note.

“Oh my God,” Clay whispered, letting out the breath he was subconsciously holding in as soon as he had finished reading the note, letting his arms fall limply to his side as he sucked in a breath of air - closing his eyes and rubbing away the sweat on his face with the back of his hand.

“Hey, d-do you think it’s _our_ fault that he…?” Vincent let the last word of his question drawl on, looking at the two conscious males curiously for an answer.

“God I-I don’t know anymore,” Zak said softly, letting his gaze fall on Darryl as the words escaped his lips. His heart shuddered to a thundering stop as he watched the unconscious male begin to stir from his sleep.

Darryl was confused, to say the least. He woke up on his back. Darryl groaned and began to sit up. Maybe he’d woken up in hell? That would be nice. 

Darryl sat up. He felt something covering his wrists, it was kind of itchy. When he looked down at his wrists, he tilted his head in confusion. He didn’t know why he had bandages on his arms. He felt sore around his neck. He looked up from his wrists.

He saw a wall.

_His_ wall. Not the fiery pits of Hell.

Wait, what?

He heard shuffling from behind him accompanied with an almost silent gasp.

His eyes widened as he suddenly stood up, making himself dizzy with nausea. He made a sharp 180-degree turn. Darryl held his breath and stepped back slightly.

Zak, Vincent, and Clay’s widened eyes stared back into his own. Darryl frantically looked from person to person. He was shocked, confused, scared.

But most of all…

Darryl, really, truly was disappointed. 

_Disappointed that they found him._

_Disappointed that he didn’t hang himself earlier._

_ **Disappointed that he survived.** _

“How… how did you-” Darryl tried.

He paused, tears beginning to cloud his vision.

“Darryl, don’t panic - okay?” Vincent said in a calming voice, gazing at Darryl’s helpless expression as Darryl pressed his body against the wall behind him, shoulders tense and eyes flitting between the three males in panic. 

“How- How did you even g-get in here? I-I made sure there was no way anyone could get in...” Darryl panicked.

“Well,” Clay began to say, taking a glance at Zak.

“W… Why?” Darryl suddenly asked.

The others looked on in confusion.

“Why even bother? Why did you save me?” Darryl asked. Tears began to drip down his face as he spoke.

Clay, Vincent, and Zak were stunned into silence.

“I... I didn’t want to be saved!” Darryl cried, tears pouring down his face as he crumpled to the ground, a sobbing mess. 

He buried his face in his hands as he cried loudly. He looked up through sorrowful tears at the others who didn’t know what to do or say, stunned into a shame-filled silence.

“I just wanted to die!” He wept. “Is that really too much to ask for?!”

His sobs got quieter and quieter. After a while, he just sat up and stared. Darryl was slumped against the wall, just blankly staring at the crimson pool of blood that stained the flooring of the room. The stench of dry, metallic blood filled the air. Everyone was silent.

“...the one thing I wanted most was death, and you couldn’t let me have that?”

“You can’t die, Darryl!” Zak shouted.

Everyone looked shocked as the words rang throughout the room, even Zak himself seemed surprised.

“It’s just… We all care about you. You don’t know how we’d feel if we lost you,” Zak stated, looking down at the ground.

Darryl looked down at the pool of blood. He glanced up, looking directly at Zak’s eyes, staring into his soul. Darryl’s face neutral and his eyes void of any emotion, empty. 

_ **Broken.** _

“I don’t want to be me anymore.”

Darryl looked outside through the clear glass of the window. It was raining. He stood up, the tears that had been rolling down his cheeks increasing with each passing second. He couldn’t be in the room anymore.

_“I know I’m the stupid one, you all point that out frequently. I know that I trust people too much. I know I’m fucking selfish but, fuck, I don’t want to suffer like this anymore. I know that in the end…”_

Darryl opened the door that went out into the hallway of his house. He turned toward the others, conflicted and horror-struck faces were what met his gaze. He smiled a seemingly genuine smile, but Darryl’s eyes were full of self-hatred and pain.

** “...none of you really care.” **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ****   
**A/N - Hello, it’s me Leafintel, I apologise if I made you sad - but that’s 100% your fault for reading this in the first place.**   
**  
**e/n: also it’s kinda my fault uwu i’m sowwy****  



	3. Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He needs a way out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **TIME TO SUFFER EVEN MORE, DARE-BEAR **
> 
> **TRIGGER WARNINGS: Graphic Depictions of Some Dark Shit, Implied Suicide, Blood, Panic Attack, Shitty Exes, Crying**

The sudden deafening slam of the bedroom door left the three in stunned silence, the three of them staring at the door in sickly shock - a surge of guilt slammed into them upon Darryl’s abrupt exit out of the room into the pouring rain.

With a shake of his head, Zak sucked in a breath of air - running over to the window, hoping that Darryl hadn’t left. Much to his disappointment, the male was nowhere to be seen. 

“Oh God, what have we done?” Vincent whispered, joining Zak by the windowsill; staring outside at the raindrops hitting the ground. Clay wandered over to them, putting a reassuring hand on the shoulders of the two of them.  
“It’s okay - as soon as we find him, we’ll get this sorted out,” Clay said - hoping to lighten up the other two’s moods.

Vincent intertwined his hand with Clay’s, squeezing it tightly - suddenly feeling a light peck on the cheek from the green-clad male, catching him off guard. A blush coated his face at the sweet gesture - Zak briefly stopped his window-gazing to look up at the affectionate couple, inwardly wincing as he remembered Darryl’s presumed crush on the pair.

Shaking it off, he turned away from the window, making his way towards the bedroom door; turning to face the two before he got the chance to turn the door handle.  
“C’mon, we need to go after him,” Zak said - hand on the door handle as he opened the door, already making his way down the staircase.

Vincent and Clay followed after him, the sudden sound of a dog’s bark that was heard from the corner of the hallway caused the trio to stop in their tracks and stare at the two small dogs seated in the corner of the corridor, the dogs tilting their heads in confusion as the three males looked down at them. 

“Oh right, his dogs,” Clay muttered, running his fingers through his curly hair in exasperation.  
“Well, what do we do - can we really just leave them here?” Zak asked, walking over to the two dogs and petting them gently with the palm of his hand - trying his best to ignore his blood-soaked fingers staining the dog's fur.

“Well, what do we do with them?” Vincent asked, glancing down at the dogs - innocently staring right back at him.  
“Clay, you stay with the rats,” Vincent said, turning to his significant other with a commanding glare in his eyes.

“Wait wait wait wait _why?_” Clay sputtered, giving Vincent an incredulous look. Vincent rolled his eyes at his boyfriend’s dramatic response.  
“I mean - I don’t want them discovering something they shouldn’t,” Vincent let his eyes edge towards Darryl’s bedroom, ignoring the discomfort he felt with the reminder of what just happened.

“C’mon guys, hurry up - we’re losing time,” Zak muttered, though slightly amused at the couples’ mindless bickering.  
“Fine, fine - I’ll stay, I’ll stay,” Clay said, holding his hands in the air in defeated resignation, rather not bothering to argue with his boyfriend and waste time finding their friend.

Vincent bent down to give the other a sweet, chaste kiss before waving him goodbye as he waltzed out of the door with an aura of triumphant victory - Zak bid his farewell to the green-clad male before following Vincent out of the door, closing it gently behind him.

Darryl heard Zak, Vincent and Clay running inside of the house, looking for him. His tears had slowed down by now. He expected them to maybe rummage around the house. In order to save energy for what he was about to do next, we walked away from his own house. Sad eyes cast down, he didn’t look back.

_Well, until the front door was slammed open._

Darryl turned around to see Zak and Vincent running after him. Darryl’s eyes widened and he turned around and bolted.

The area that Darryl’s house was in was relatively quiet, but the pouring rain main it louder. Zak and Vincent were slowly catching up to him.

“Darryl, stop!” Zak shouted, outstretching his hand. 

Darryl quickly came to an intersection. He swerved right and saw a fence at the end of the street that led to a park. Zak and Vincent were behind him, Darryl could tell, but he needed to do this. He was hesitant, but he had come too far. 

** _ They don’t care for you, so why do you even need to exist? _ **

Darryl boosted ahead and used his momentum to pounce into the fence. He stuck his feet and gripped his hands in the fence gate holes and used it as a ladder. Zak and Vincent had been shocked that Darryl had hopped over the fence so easily, but that didn’t stop them. Vincent decided to go around the fence and Zak carefully climbed the fence, hopping down as carefully as possible. Because of this, Darryl had widened the distance between himself, Zak, and Vincent greatly.

Sighing, Clay wandered into Darryl’s bathroom, washing his blood-covered hands in the sink. He turned around and found himself staring at two dogs with their heads tilted in bewilderment at the unfamiliar entity inhabiting their owner’s bathroom. Crouching down on the floor, he stared intensely at the two dogs before placing his hands on their heads.

“You won’t go in there, right?” He asked, tilting his head towards Darryl’s bedroom door. The dogs stared up at Clay in confusion - Having no idea what he had just said.  
“I’ll take that as a yes, now don’t tell Vincent what I’m about to do - he would _kill_ me,” Clay shivered at the thought.

Winking, he slipped past the doggos and found himself standing in the quiet, empty hallway. He snuck over to the unhinged door, discreetly slipping past the door - taking one last glance behind him to check the condition of the silent house.  
“Be good,” He whispered, before closing the door behind him and stepping out into the heavy rain. Taking a fresh breath of air - thankful that he didn’t smell the overpowering, metallic smell of blood that he had become so used to in the past thirty minutes.

Clay fumbled for his phone, wandering through the streets in a hurried frenzy - freezing raindrops embedded into his hair as he frantically scrolled through his thousands of saved contact numbers. 

“C’mon… Pick up, pick up!” He growled out in frustration.

“Hello welcome to Hilton Hotel, Receptionist Reynolds speaking!” A feminine voice sang cheerfully on the other side of the line.

“Mariah, it’s-”

“Oh, my god... Clay, is that you?” 

“Yes, I need your-”

“My what?”

“Please, just let me finish for once! I’d need to meet up with you. I’m five minutes away from Hilton right now.”

“Oh, of course, babe!”

“Mariah, we’re _not_ dating anymore, don’t call me-”

“Where are we meeting up, _babe?_”

“I-”

“_Where. Babe._”

Clay ripped the phone away from his ear. He looked at it and snarled, disgusted with the woman he was talking to.

“If you actually cared to listen for once, you would’ve heard me say Hilton. Bring your car.”

“Oh, of course, babe! Love you!” Mariah cheerfully giggled.

“Okay, thanks-”

“Say it back, Clay.”

“I-”

“Clay.”

“No, I _need_ this car, it’s an emergency and I need help-”

“Say it or I won’t help you. Bonus points if you actually sound convincing.” The woman hissed hostilely.

“I...” Clay hesitated.

“Yes, Clay baby?”

“I… Love... you... t-too…?” Clay said. He had to force the words out of his mouth - attempting to suppress his urge to add on an insult to the end of the statement; a shudder of discomfort ran down his spine.

“I suppose that will have to suffice!” She ended the call, all but a small bit of hostility vanished from her tone - Clay let out a sigh of irritated relief, stuffing the phone into his pocket as he made his way towards his bothersome ex’s workplace, still not overly excited about meeting her again.

Clay trudged to the back of the luxurious hotel, internally sighing as he saw his ex standing with her hands on her hips - a lustful smirk on her face as she caught sight of the green-clad male. Inwardly shivering, Clay approached Mariah, an awkward smile plastered on his face as he walked up to her - discreetly eyeing her black Lamborghini.

“Like what you see?” 

“Yeah, the car’s pretty nice-”

“Jesus, Clay, you know that’s not what I was... Whatever! So you really came here for the car...? You _sure_ that it wasn’t for... _something else_?” She asked, her voice dripping with seduction as she ran her fingers through her curly, dark hair.

“Yes, yes I did,” Clay muttered matter-of-factly, not even trying to conceal his annoyance with the situation.

She tossed over the keys carelessly, Clay catching them with ease - letting out an uneasy breathe as Mariah winked at him seductively. 

“Is that all, _babe,_” She pouted her red painted lips in disappointment, watching Clay unlock the door of the car and fling himself into the seat.

“You know, I have a boyfriend,” Clay muttered, not amused with her failing advancements - she blinked slowly, staring at him before regarding his statement.

“...Tch, whatever, who cares anyway?”

“Listen, Mariah, you’re a nice woman, but I’m not going down this road again. You were the one who cheated on me. I refuse to steep down to your level,” Clay sighed under his breath, starting the engine of the expensive car.

There was a brief pause between them.

“Well, thanks for lending me your car.”

Mariah smiled at the genuine thanks, about to open her mouth to speak, not before Clay interrupted her.

“And no, I’m not gonna get back together with you.”

“You might just change your mind about that soon,” Mariah smirked, crossing her arms in mild annoyance.

“Great, thanks - ok I’m gonna need to get going now, bye,” Clay said somewhat sarcastically, closing the doors of the Lamborghini and driving off - watching Mariah trudge back to the inside of the Hotel in the rearview mirror, letting a sigh of relief slip through his lips as he began to drive - plugging his phone into the aux cord and scrolling through his contacts impatiently.

Vincent let out an exhausted huff of air, raindrops dripped off stray hair strands as he let himself stop running around.

“T-This...Has been...The most running I-I’ve done in my _life_,” He muttered under his breath, rubbing his forehead with the back of his hand.  
“V, w-we need to find Darryl! If we don’t-don’t...” Zak shook his head, cutting himself off before he could even plan on finishing his sentence.

“Zak…” Vincent looked at the shorter boy in front of him, watching the other tremble a little as he blinked away the tears at the corners of his eyes. Rubbing his eyes with the sleeve of his damp sweater, he turned around to regard the concerned male behind him.

“Vincent, I-I’m fine...It’s just, this whole thing has got me worked up - _I-I don’t wanna lose him,_” Zak whispered, a pleading inflection in his desperate voice as he stared up at the taller male, who was seemingly lost for words on how to comfort Zak. Sucking in a sigh of air, Zak ran his fingers through his hair before turning to scan their location - laying his eyes on Vincent.

“We need to think of something, we can’t just run around expecting to bump into him,” Zak muttered, Vincent nodding in agreement.

“So where could he be…”

_‘On top of a building, on the ledge of a cliff…’_ Vincent thought to himself grimly, a chill ran up his spine as he contemplated Darryl’s whereabouts. 

His phone vibrated in his pocket, he groaned in exasperated annoyance as he pulled the device out to answer - staring at the contact information of his significant other. Accepting the call, he put it on speaker for Zak to hear - among the brief seconds of silence, the faint sound of a car engine played in the background.

_Car engine...Wait._

“Hey uh, where are you guys right now?” Clay asked innocently, awaiting Vincent’s response.

“Clay, did you leave the house?” Vincent asked, keeping his voice level.

“Ah well-”

“CLAY I WILL MURDER YOU THE NEXT TIME I S-”

Zak cut off the fuming male, face-palming at the couple’s incessant bickering.

“Just tell him where we are, he’s got a car so it’ll be easier to find Darryl before he-” He cut himself off abruptly and looked away from the taller’s gaze, which softened as he watched the blue-clad male in concern before shaking his head and regarding his lover on the other line.

“Right, we’re at uhm,” Vincent looked around the surrounding area for any sign of the pair’s whereabouts - unsuccessful in his search.

“Just send me your location,” Clay suggested helpfully, Vincent internally berating himself for being out-smarted by the other; smiling smugly on the other side of the line as Vincent stayed silent.

“Right okay, will do, be here ASAP,” Zak spoke, breaking the tense silence before ending the call. Vincent sent the other their location - leaving the pair to wait for the other to pick them up.

After a few minutes, Vincent and Zak were greeted with the sight of a sleek Lamborghini in front of them; both raising a skeptical eyebrow at the sight of such an expensive vehicle in such close vicinity, for seemingly no reason. That is until the blacked-out window was rolled down to reveal the sight of Clay, staring at the stunned pair with a knowing smirk.

Zak opened the door, sitting in the backseat as Vincent cautiously shuffled into the passenger seat, staring at his boyfriend in shock.

“You know, I would ask what this is about, but we have something important going on right now so you might wanna step on it,” Vincent slowly stated, running his fingers through his brown locks as he traced his hand across the leather of the car seat he was seated on.

“I’m one step ahead of you hun,” Clay murmured, stepping harshly on the gas pedal - the car aggressively jolting forward at the sudden motion - Zak and Vincent lurching forward as the car sped down the road, total disregard for the speed limit.

Darryl pulled his hood over his head, as the wind had picked up, and so had the rain. He heard a car passing by and thought of jumping in front of it. When he turned to look at the surprisingly glamorous car, it had stopped by the sidewalk.

Out came Zak and Vincent.

Darryl quickly scanned his surroundings. There was a giant tree that had its trunk hidden by a giant brick wall on his right. It was probably on someone’s property. The park was on his left, more street behind him and in front of him. If he could go down the street somehow, he’d eventually find the not quiet part of the city. He would be able to lose them easily there.

“Darryl, please-” Vincent tried.

Darryl had decided. Now or never. He ran toward the car, jumped onto the hood, then onto the roof. He quickly jumped into the large tree and walked down a branch to the wall. The wall was slightly thicker than he expected, so he was able to boost onto a building’s roof.

He looked back from his high vantage point to see Zak’s extremely shocked expression and Vincent trying to figure out what the heck just happened. Then, Clay parked the car and abruptly got out of it. 

“I’ll boost you up!” Clay told the other two.

They were both snapped out of their stupor and nodded. Zak and Vincent headed toward the wall, Clay getting ready to boost them. 

“Darryl, no! Please stop!” Zak shouted.

Darryl froze. Did he want them to catch him? How **_selfish_**. Darryl shook his head and turned around. He took a deep breath and then tried to count to ten. 

He heard a thump come from behind him before he could finish. Vincent and Zak had made it onto the roof. Vincent was facing forward and staring right at Darryl on the same roof. Zak was turned around on the wall, his hand going over the side.

What was he doing?

“Darryl… we can talk about this!” Vincent cried.

Darryl glanced down.

As it turns out, Zak was pulling Clay up onto the wall. As soon and Darryl realized this, he turned and ran.

Darryl was on the roof of a building.

Darryl fell.

Zak had just finished helping Clay up. He had turned around and saw Darryl run off the edge of the building.

“NO!” They all screamed in unison.

Zak and Clay jumped from the wall onto the roof and followed Vincent, who was looking over the edge of the roof in horror.

Clay and Zak frantically ran to the edge of the roof and looked down. Darryl’s body was nowhere to be seen. The three were confused until they saw that there was an open window on the side of the building. 

“I-is that jump even possible?!” Clay stuttered, thinking of the worst as his eyes scanned the ground.

“We’re about to find out,” Vincent said.

Vincent, without thinking, stood up and took a few steps back. He jumped off of the building.

Vincent had actually managed to grab on to the windowsill. He barely managed to push himself into the building. It was a building with the interior design of a warehouse. He turned around and looked out of the window, seeing the other two with shocked looks on their faces.

Zak made a determined face and was walking backwards slowly. A few seconds after he disappeared from Vincent’s point of view, Clay turned around.

“NO- WAIT-” Clay yelled.

Zak ran back into view and jumped off of the building. Zak grabbed onto the same windowsill Vincent was peering out of. Vincent helped pull him into the building.

“I’ll go after Darryl, you help Clay!” Vincent shouted over his shoulder, turning to run. Zak turned his head towards Vincent and nodded.

“_Bring him back,_” Zak whispered, a small shred of hope in his eyes and laced within his words. 

As Vincent nodded determinedly and ran off, Zak turned around and outstretched his arms.

“C’mon, Clay! We have to go!” Zak yelled. 

Clay hesitated. He looked over the edge of the building that he stood on. It was a long drop down, and the other two barely made it.

“I… I’ll go round and get the car… You go after Vincent and Darryl...” Clay trailed off, red with embarrassment. 

Zak was astonished.

“What?! No, Clay, we hafta-” he started, but then trailed off as he realized that Clay didn’t want to jump. The pumping adrenaline that ran through Zak’s veins wore off a little as he realized how high they were up.

“L-look, I can j-just take the stairs down, and I’ll m-meet you guys down there...” Clay muttered, turning around and running for the stairs.

Zak stepped back from the window.

“Alright! I’ll meet you down there!” He hollered after Clay.

Darryl had hidden from the others in a convenience store. He stalked around the aisles, paranoid every time the bell on the store’s door rang. Darryl looked down at his feet. He wanted to go home, he wanted to embrace his dogs. He wished that this whole thing was a dream, that when he woke up, he wouldn’t be as fucked up as he thought he was. He silently shuffled to the bathroom, locking the door behind him and looking at himself in the mirror. 

He looked like shit. 

The whites of his eyes were tinted pink; you could clearly tell that he’d been crying.

Darryl didn’t know what to do with himself anymore. He knew that he was pathetic and weak, but he didn’t want to feel anymore. He _just_ wanted to leave this world behind.

Darryl clutched his chest and crumpled down onto the ground. The tears were returning, streaming down his face uncontrollably. His eyes were wide and unfocused.

He was going down that dark path in his mind. He started to shake and sob.

Did life just want him to suffer?

He glanced down at both hands that were shaking. He tried to get them to stop, finding that he was unable to. He breathed fast and short breaths. He was trying to stop shaking, he tried holding his breath, standing up, or thinking about something- _anything_ else. 

Nothing was working, and he’d tried everything he could think of.

Darryl gave up. 

He lay there - quivering, tears rolling down his face, _blank_. No emotion was on his face as he just let himself cry on the dirty convenience store bathroom floor.

Slipping out of the stall, Darryl ran his fingers through his hair and brushed it out of his face as his eyes wandered around the store. He walked around, grabbing some dog food and hot chocolate mix, along with some other essential items. He would have felt guilty if he had left the store without buying something. Just as he was about to leave the store after dutifully paying for his items, he saw a black Lamborghini zoom down the street, past the store, definitely going over the speed limit.

Darryl froze. That was the same car Zak, Clay, and Vincent were in. He had to leave the store, and leave _fast_. Darryl sighed in exasperation, beginning to walk out of the store. He hastily headed home, keeping his head low as he prayed to whatever omnipotent entity out there that his three friends didn’t catch him.

He sighed as he found himself standing outside his front door. Ignoring the broken hinges, he crept inside, shutting the door behind him quietly as he carelessly placed his newly-bought items on his kitchen countertop. He found his hands reaching for instant coffee sat snugly in a cabinet next to his fridge, twisting the lid and repeating the formula he had done so many times.

_‘One instant coffee, two sugars, four creams’_

Darryl stood by the counter and stared listlessly at the coffee machine; listening to the sounds of coffee being made among the unnerving silence of his house. As the ever familiar sound of the machine turning off, he poured the boiling liquid into his favorite mug, taking a sniff of the warm beverage and smiling softly to himself. Turning on his heel, he found himself staring at the plastic bag on the countertop, before deciding to tip out the contents onto the countertop and stare at the items. He began to feed his dogs and make some food for himself. 

Darryl knew that his friends were still looking for him, but he just wanted to relax for a little bit. He fondly thought of the memories that flooded his head. Memories filled with the same happiness which he longed to feel now, memories filled with the dogs which he cared for so much, and memories filled with his friends, who had become a part of his family.

Darryl closed his eyes.

**And he smiled**

Darryl passed by the table in his kitchen, swirling the newly-brewed coffee with a teaspoon as he sat on the sofa - placing the steaming mug onto the coffee table and standing up. He began to wander into the corridor. His eyes fell on two small balls of fur snuggled up against each other on the floor outside of his bedroom door. The two dogs slowly began to regain consciousness from their slumber as the rustling of the newcomer was heard across the hallway. 

Running his fingers through his hair, Darryl stared at his two rats in fondness - his gentle smile gracing his face as he saw the two dogs walk up to him, recognising the familiar face of their owner.

Patting the two dogs, he turned around - heading back to the abandoned beverage, dogs following the male closely behind. He felt himself collapse onto the sofa, his two fuzzy rats gazed at their owner in confusion, accompanied by a curious head tilt and an almost synchronized jump onto the couch.

Darryl let out a soft and relieved sigh, picking up the two dogs and hugging them tightly; his eyes welling up with tears as he stroked the dog’s soft fur.

“I love you,” he whispered.

Hesitantly, he let go of his two dogs and reluctantly pulled out his phone from his pocket; finding himself on the shared group-chat with Zak, Clay and Vincent. He sighed and began to eat the sandwich he made for himself. Taking a deep breath through his nose, he typed out a message, unconsciously holding his breath until he finally hit the send button. He found himself biting his lip as he stared at the message he had sent. Anger and hope both filled his chest, as he looked away.

He diverted his attention to the coffee cup still sat on the table - wiping the sweat away with the sleeve of his cozy hoodie, he reached out to hold the mug tightly.

Zak felt the familiar vibration of a phone emanate from his hoodie pocket; pulling it out, he swallowed a gulp as he read who it had been from. He looked up from the luminous screen to see Vincent staring at his phone in mild shock - Clay still driving around the quiet streets in search of their friend.

**im sorry for everything i put you guys through. please, go home.**

“Hey Clay, we might want to head to Darryl’s house…” Vincent muttered, panic beginning to creep its way into the French male’s voice.

“W-what, why?” Clay asked, giving his boyfriend an eyebrow raise of confusion.

Vincent gulped nervously.

“We got a text from Darryl.”

“Now or never.”

Before Darryl could think twice about his actions, he downed the hot liquid - ignoring the familiar burning sensation from the heat of the drink as it went down his throat. He felt his head going fuzzy, his vision began to blur - unable to tell if it was because of his tears, the drink, or something else. He held onto his dogs for dear life, hugging them tightly and relaxing as he felt his consciousness begin to slip away.

Distantly, Darryl heard a sudden slam of his front door, staring through hazy eyes at the three that had suddenly arrived. He let out a whimper upon their abrasive arrival, his shaking hands clutching onto the dogs tighter as he looked up to see the stunned faces of his three friends.

“D-Darryl?” Zak whispered, his eyes falling on the sight of the aforementioned male tucked on the sofa with his dogs entangled within his arms.

Darryl was acutely aware of the three staring down at him, forcing himself to sit up and stare at the 3, ignoring the dizzy spell that overcame him at the sudden action. He felt arms wrap around his waist and hug him tightly, his breath hitching as he felt the unfamiliar warmth of physical contact. Blinking away the tears that were beginning to form, he felt a smile grace his lips as he found himself staring at Zak, Vincent, and Dream - a reassuring yet concerned look in their eyes as they watched their half-conscious friend.

“W-Why did you come back, y-you shouldn’t have...” Darryl stuttered out, taking a glance at the three of them through his blurring vision, a small, grateful smile still ever present on his face.

“You’re one of our closest friends, Darryl, that’s why we had to come back,” Clay 

Darryl found himself caught off by the statement, eyes widening as the words were spoken, his smile faltered. Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around the three males, digs still pressed up against his chest. 

He let out an uneasy breath as he let his arms fall limp, attempting to keep himself conscious, he stared at the three with a faraway, glazed stare.

“We’re glad you’re okay,” Clay smiled.

A chilling silence ran between the four. Darryl’s smile fell as he abruptly broke eye contact and looked away. Vincent, Zak, and Clay were confused. 

“Y’know,” Zak paused. “You… you’re very important to all of us… And we care about you, you’re a part of our family,” Zak finished, a tiny smile on his face.

Another round of silence spread throughout the room as Darryl took in that statement. He looked tired, sad, and regretful.

“It hurts us when you’re hurting, and we _never_ want to see you hurt again,” Vincent admitted.

Darryl’s eyes filled with tears, yet his facial expression remained emotionless. The young adult just leaned into the couch, and hugged his confused dogs like it was the last time he would ever see them. 

**“Then you don’t wanna see what happens next.”**

Zak, Clay, and Vincent stared at Darryl in confusion, looking at each other in hopes for any ideas of what he meant - all suppressing a shiver as they thought about the worst possible outcome their heads could come up with.

“I-I’m so grateful for all that you’ve done,” Darryl was unable to fight back the tears that began to pool in the corners of his eyes in his lethargic state.

“I’m glad I was able to meet you guys, and I’m happy that I became your friend.”

Tears began to stream down his increasingly pale cheeks as he felt himself sob and shake in front of the three of them - not finding it within himself to hold back the crushing pain anymore.

“Zak, please take care of the dogs for me.”

Zak felt himself choking up, Vincent and Clay watching Darryl with bated breath sharing a look of worry until they heard the black-cladded male speak up again.

“It...It was a good run guys,” a forceful laugh rasped out of his throat, a sad smile made its way onto his face - his vision clouding as the world around him started spinning. Darryl began to breathe irregularly and shake violently.

Swallowing down a gasp of sudden revelation, Zak fumbled for his phone tucked away in his hoodie pocket - attempting to ignore the shaking of his fingers as he began to type out three numbers. Vincent and Clay stared at Darryl, diverting their attention to Zak as they overheard him hastily trying his best to keep his voice steady as he spoke to the other person on the other line.

“Y-yes, hello… M-my friend needs he-help something’s happening and I don’t know what to do or what’s going on and please, _he needs help_ he recently tried to _kill_ himself and I-!” He began to ramble, his eyes already wet with tears as he watched his best friend began to slip into unconsciousness. Clay and Vincent shared a look of distress, their eyes falling on the barely conscious form of their friend: laboured breathing accompanied by glassy, lidded eyes.

Zak let his grip slacken on his phone as he heard the 911 operator reassuringly explain that help was being sent his way, deciding to drop the call - bidding his farewells and thanks to the man on the other side of the line. He sensed the other two staring at him, a stunned expression on their faces as their gaze flicked from Zak to focus on his phone.

He huffed a sigh as his gaze locked on Darryl again, only now realising how _sick_ he had become in the past few minutes.

“Hey, you two - keep him awake, I’ll explain what’s happening in a moment,” Zak asked with as much authority as he could put into his voice.

They nodded, although still perplexed by the situation. Zak left the room and rushed to the kitchen, his eyes frantically scanning for a sign of something, _anything_ about what was happening to his best friend.

He felt his breath hitch as he found himself staring at the incriminating object sat innocently on the kitchen counter, an involuntary shiver running down his spine as he read the label.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: Hey, it’s Leafintel, sorry for the holdup but me and my co-author are lazy so yeah. I hope you enjoyed this one, it’s very hard to write sad things so y’all better wish us luck.**
> 
> **e/n: pain will begin soon >:D**


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